Man About Town
by Yoshimi
Summary: Chloe x Lex. Lex takes Chloe out for dinner. Snark ensues.


When Lex had asked her to meet him at a place called _Troy Flannagan's_, she'd been surprised. It sounded a bit more down to earth than his usual dining choices - those usually began with _Le_ and contained at least two accent marks in their names. But then she had arrived at Monsieur Flannagan's, and discovered that she didn't have to update her files on Lex Luthor just yet. The restaurant was decorated almost entirely in glass and steel (attempts to erase all traces of the organic did little for Chloe's faith in the food or its nutritional value) and a quick glance at the menu confirmed that it was the same cultural fusion cuisine that Lex always chose; it was just served by an Irish-American this time.

One of these days, Chloe swore to herself, she would pick the restaurant. They would go to a place with "Mamma" or "Sue" in the name, a place that served casserole, fried chicken, and lard-crust key lime pie. Or, better yet, Buffalo wings. The thought of Lex's flawless skin besmirched with wing sauce and chicken grease was beautiful. She mentally added a paper napkin stuffed into his collar to protect his tie, and the image was complete.

"What are you grinning about?"

"Oh, nothing," Chloe sighed. She had just been getting to the part of the scenario where she helped him clean off all that sauce.

"Isn't this place great?" Lex asked.

"Yeah, it's very...industrial."

"I believe the preferred term in International." He examined Chloe's face for cues. "Do you not like it? We can go somewhere else. I've heard really amazing things about their seafood selection here, that was why I chose it, but..."

"No, it's fine Lex, really. I'm sure the food is delicious. You know you have great taste," Chloe said, accompanied by the smile that always seemed to reassure him.

"I do have excellent breeding."

Thankfully, before he could think too much on his breeding and upbringing and thoroughly ruin the evening for them both, the waiter appeared. Lex was always in his element when communicating with service staff. No need for power plays or verbal tug-of-war, but plenty to be gained from flattery on both sides. Chloe watched him intimate with the tone of his voice and the flash of his smile the exact amount they would be spending on tonight's outing. This led perfectly into the display of his monogrammed leather wine carrier (she supposed it was a cooler, but it gave one the feeling that it was much more - a Tuscan leather briefcase for a bottle, perhaps). The server was delighted when Lex revealed a 1990 Montrachet Domaine de la Romanée-Conti and appeared frighteningly close to death or an orgasm when Lex offered him a taste. No one mentioned the corking fee (Chloe guessed it would probably be from $30-$45 for this establishment) because no one doubted he was good for it.

After Lex ordered his pan-seared Chilean sea bass topped with mushrooms, leeks, snow peas, and a truffle essence, the waiter remembered Chloe existed. She remembered that she had yet to give much thought to the menu.

"I, um, hear you have good seafood?"

"Indeed, ma'am."

"What would you suggest?"

When she finally settled on a garlic shrimp, it was fairly easy to detect who the waiter thought was the real catch in this couple.

Lex seemed not to have noticed, though, as he continued normal conversation. "I enjoyed the piece you had on me in today's _Planet_."

"Thank you," she smirked. "I think it was one of my better stories, and everyone else seemed to agree."

"I was particularly impressed with your ability to work the adjectives 'ruthless,' 'callous,' and 'dissolute' all into one piece, and still maintain your journalistic integrity. It was quite a feat."

"My editor says I'm a natural."

"Like Clark and Lois?"

"My editor says Clark is a dunderhead, and Lois is hot shit, in more ways than one."

Lex's smile broadened considerably at this. "Your editor seems like an excellent judge of character."

Chloe reached out her hand to stroke Lex's perfectly manicured fingers, resting on the glass tabletop, and admired their vague reflections in its surface. "He doesn't like you, if that means anything."

"Only that nobody's perfect."

The arrival of their food demanded the separation of their hands, but the meal appeared to be worth it. The plates were glass, and she enjoyed the novelty of gazing between her shrimp through the table to her open-toed heels.

She also garnered a certain pleasure from the look of pure delight that filled Lex's face as he took the first bite of his fillet, followed by a sip of the golden wine.

"Did you realize the Chilean sea bass is one of the most highly poached fish in the world? It's in great danger of being overfished." she informed him.

"All the more reason to get it while I can," he responded easily.

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it." She glanced at the steel-ribboned ceiling as though it might tell her what she was doing here tonight, and why she would in all likelihood be sitting across the table from this infuriating man in an identical restaurant the next week and the week after, until he sent her a pair of diamond earrings some day tomorrow or the year after. The ceiling was rigid and offered her nothing.

Lex continued with his train of thought unfazed. "Are you familiar with the Epic of Gilgamesh? When Gilgamesh is confronted with his own immortality, he..."

"Please, Lex, not tonight. You're going to give me a strangely summarized Babylonian story, and manage to make it relate to the ethics of your dining choices in a way that will leave me stunned, without response, but also vaguely unsettled for days. I'll feel like there's a loophole you expect me to catch, and when I don't, I'm a failure in your little game. I'm not in the mood tonight." Before he could be offended, she moved around the table and perched herself on his exquisitely tailored pants. There were certain benefits to dating the richest man in the room who coincidentally had a long-standing reputation for the impulsive and flashy, and Chloe rarely took advantage of them. Tonight she would remedy that.

She leaned into his mouth, and in his kiss she could taste what they shared - the alien warmth in their throats and stomachs, the wine's acid on their lips, and the fear for what their tomorrow might bring. Admittedly, it was more vigorous than their initial kisses ever were, but that came from being in a crowded room with a line trailing past the nearby plate glass window.

"There," Chloe said decisively, once she had removed herself from his mouth. "Does that give you an idea of what I'm in the mood for tonight?"

"Dessert?"

"Probably that too," she laughed. "But not if it's creme brulee again."

"What about tiramisú?"

"You know, I think we should go elsewhere. I'm in the mood for key lime pie."


End file.
